Durrandell God-Weapon Academy
by Overword
Summary: Ezreal's talent is noticed by the faculty of the prestigious Academy, and he is taken off of the street and thrust into the fast-paced and violent life at the Academy, where he and his new friends are groomed into weapons for humanity to use in the increasingly desperate fight against the Void. Ezreal struggles to rise to the top while staying true to who he is.


The rain poured down, drenching those unlucky enough to be caught in the deluge. _Including me_, thought Ezreal miserably as he struggled to keep dry, huddled underneath a park bench. He turned around and lay on his back, staring up through the cracks at the stars above. A comet blazed low overhead, making a dazzling display in the dreary sky. _My life may suck, I may be wet and uncomfortable, and this park bench might not really keep the water off, but a__t least I can see the stars_. No sooner had Ezreal thought that than some inconsiderate soul sat its ass on the park bench, right above his head. He would have complained, but the owner of that ass held an umbrella, and Ezreal was protected from the rain by its shadow. He bit his tongue. _I cant believe I was reduced to being forced to accept a stinky ass in front of my face to keep dry. Not that I fell from any great heights or anything, but this is bad, even for me._

He shrugged, and pulled his sweater tighter around himself. His gauntlet glowed a sympathetic yellow, casting a little heat onto his face.

"Thanks, pal."

Sheltered underneath a park bench, holding his only friend in the world, and soaking wet, Ezreal fell asleep on the streets for the 6570th time.

When he woke up, the sun was blazing in the sky. He glanced at a clock mounted on the side of a nearby skyscraper. _9:30. Guess I slept in a little late._ He rolled out from underneath the bench and got to his feet. Ezreal brushed off his sweater, stretched, and started ambling down the street. He let his feet carry him around, while he idly looked for things to steal. He hadn't had much luck lately, but he was sure that would change.

After all, Ezreal was always victorious. A sunny smile lit up his face, and he strolled to the jewelry district. A few burly guards stood in front of most of the storefronts, so he decided to back off and try somewhere else.

He found a vender selling hot dogs, and after a few minutes of waiting, snatched one from his hand, before teleporting away into the cover of a nearby alley. As he finished eating his stolen hotdog, he heard a small sob followed by mocking shouts.

Further down the alley, a small girl was running away from a pack of other children. They held sticks, and kept poking the girl and she struggled to get away. Ezreal felt a pang in his chest at the familiar sight. He himself had been in that situation many times as a child, bullyed by others stronger than himself, forced to run away or be beaten. He had always prayed someone would step in and protect him. _I can be the person I always wanted to save me!_

He focused briefly and disappeared in a burst of light, appearing right behind the girl. He looked at the children chasing her, hoping he looked at least a little intimidating.

"Alright, thats enough you little hooligans."

He was confident that they would recognize his strength and back off- after all, he had always run from adults when he was younger, and now he was 18. However, Ezreal suddenly noticed that only the girl wore ratted clothing. The children chasing her were dressed in pompous outfits, expensive clothes which were the trendiest things on the market. They pulled up to a stop in front of him, and the largest boy sneered at Ezreal.

"Get out of our way, or I'll have my daddy put you in prison."

Ezreal was at a loss. He knew messing with the wealthy was a sure way to get caught. The smarter part of him knew it was a good idea to cut his losses and get out. And yet... he couldn't abandon the poor girl. He decided not to dwell on the child's threat, and focus on saving the child. She was huddled up right behind him, sniffling. Her tear streaked face was all he needed to see. Filled with a reckless anger against the children, he allowed his gauntlet to glow a vibrant blue.

Without saying a word, he let an energy blast loose, knocking the boy off his feet. The other children gasped, and backed up a few paces. Their expressions got a little more worried. The boy picked himself up, after a second, shaking. Ezreal hadnt put enough juice into the shot to actually hurt him, just scare him a little. The boy was more petulant than scared, and as Ezreal watched, he pulled out an expensive phone.

"Daddy, daddy, help me! A bad man attacked me, and I wasn't doing anything. Yea, he did! Please, daddy, send everyone and come beat him up!"

The boy flashed an evil grin at Ezreal, as he put the phone back in his pocket.

"My daddy has lots of guards and they are going to beat you up! Maybe if you beg me, I'll let you get off easily."

Ezreal frowned. He knew he could get away with ease with the help of his gauntlet, but he couldn't take the girl with him. He wasn't leaving her to this sadistic children. He shrugged his shoulders, mind made up. Turning, he faced the sniveling girl.

"C'mere, lets run. I'll scare them off and you go home, ok?"

She nodded, wiped a tear from her face, and hurried out of the alley, tripping over her loose dress, and turned around the corner. Ezreal turned towards the children. He put on a stern face and placed his hands on his hips.

"You have been very bad. I'll let you off this time, because I'm busy and I have, uh, other things to do-"

"Your just scared of the guards!"

"-But I want you guys to know that what you did was really not ok! Shush, Ezreal fears nothing!"

With that, Ezreal powered up his gauntlet, and disappeared. Only after the adrenaline left his system did he realize that he had told them his name. Only minutes after that realization, he saw posters for the arrest of a 'wild maniac' who looked just like him being put up in the town square. _Shit. I really goofed up. I'm going to have to leave town, get a new name, and shave my hair_. Smiling at the ridiculous thought of shaving his hair, he sat down on his park bench to think. He was distracted by the unusual beauty of the lawn his bench was on. The trees were a vibrant green, the grass flowed softly in the light wind, and flowers popped up even as he watched, growing before his eyes.

"That can't be natural."

A deep and cheerful voice answered him.

"Indeed, it is not, Ezreal."

Ezreal's 'BadSituationDetector' sense kicked off immediately. He tried to teleport away, his usual method of escape, but found that his gauntlet was covered in roots which had apparently grown straight out of the park bench. His legs and arms were being covered as he watched, unable to do something about it. In front of him, a tall and lanky figure stepped into view. A smiling oaken face stared down at him.

"Ivern." Ezreal whispered in awe. The legendary teacher from the Academy! "What an honor it is to meet you! I'm your biggest fan!"

The face split into a kindly grin. "Hoho! I'm sure you like some of my colleagues better, but I'm grateful for the complement. In any case, I'm sure you are wondering why I abducted you."

"Yes, the question did cross my mind." Said Ezreal, glancing at the roots that have covered his body. He noticed that birds were landing on the Green Father's body, and small mammals were clustering at his feet.

"Well, the answer is that we at the Durrandell God-Weapon Academy have had our eyes on you. Not many have been able to wield that gauntlet, and you have shown by far the most natural power with it. Normally, that alone would be enough for us to come find you to offer a place at the academy, but recently we have also seen the need to make sure our students have the proper moral stuff as well." Ivern winced.

Ezreal's eyes widened as he remembered the shocking murder of the former Battle Principal, Marcus Du Couteau by the former head of the Sorcery Club, Veigar. He had been in shock when he had read that in a newspaper he had stolen.

Ivern paused to lift an injured bird in front of his face. He breathed on it, and its damaged wing reknit itself. The bird flew away, chirping happily.

"In any case, as the Teacher of Moral Conduct at the Academy, I was asked to evaluate all incoming students. After seeing you protect that girl my mind is made up. So let me hear your answer. Stay on the streets, on the run from that boys parents, starving, wet, and unhappy, or come to a life of prestige, power, and happiness. You can have your shot at fame, and be a hero in the war. You could live life on your own terms. Its up to you, but we both know which option is better."

_It's barely a choice at all, to be honest. I'd be a fool not to take him up on this. I cant believe my luck._

"Yes, Mr. Ivern. I accept."

"Excellent. Ryze, bring us back please. I don't want to draw too much attention and a crowd is starting to gather."

Ezreal looked around and realized that he was right. People were pointing and staring. _They will recognize me! This is bad!_ But then Ezreal realized that he didn't need to worry about that anymore. He would never need to worry about that again. _All I need to worry about now is not screwing this up. Mom, Dad, I'll make you proud!_

Ivern's roots slithered off of Ezreal, helping him to his feet with a gentle nudge before retracting into Iverns palm. Around them, a ring of blue energy appeared on the ground, glowing with shifting magic. Runes blazed into existence around them, and suddenly the ground disappeared into a wormhole. They both fell downwards into the ground. Almost at the same time, they fell upwards from a stone floor. The blue energy disapeared, and the ground solidified. Ezreal fell backwards, gasping for breath.

"What the hell was that?"

Ivern appeared unruffled, as he stroked a small mouse which was perched on one long knobby finger.

"That was Ryze's portal. We are in the Academy, in his office. If you look closely, you may notice Ryze himself." Ivern's tone was slightly chiding, so Ezreal looked around. Right in front of him, the legendary Rune Mage stood, adjusting his glasses.

"Hello, Ezreal. I hope the experience wasn't too disorienting."

His voice was gruff and slightly nasal, and he stroked his beard unconsciously as he talked. Runes blazed gently on his blue skin. Once again Ezreal was dumbfounded to find himself in the presence of another legend.

"Oh, uh… it wasn't to uh, it was, that is, it was fine, thank you sir!"

A hint of a smile appeared. "I'm sure you prefer your own methods of teleportation, but this is a bit more long range."

"Oh, yea, uh, yes."

Half of Ezreal groaned at how stupid he sounded, while his other half simply thought: '_He's so cool!'_ over and over.

Ryze looked at him once more, and then shrugged. "Well, I'll leave this to you, Ivern. Just remember you have a lecture in 15 minutes, so be quick."

Ivern nodded, and placed a fatherly hand on Ezreal's shoulder.

"Come on boy, I'll show you to your room."

They walked outside, and over to a futuristic looking building. A laser scanned Ivern, and the doors opened to let them through. Moments later, Ivern guided Ezreal over to his room.

"This is where you will be staying. We assigned you a roommate who we think you will grow to get along with. If there are any problems, let us know. Good luck!"

With that, Ivern headed back down the hall moving with springy, happy steps, leaving Ezreal alone in front of the suddenly intimidating doorway. _I wonder who my roommate is. I hope he's nice_. The gauntlet sent a burst of warmth into his arm, and glowed a gentle green, reminding him of Ivern.

"Ok then. Here I go."

He stepped forward and opened the door. The first thing Ezreal noticed was the gigantic broadsword leaning against the wall. It was almost as tall as he was. After that, he saw the discarded armor strewn about the floor, and finally his gaze fell upon the massive person on the other bed. The dude spoke without looking up from the book held gently in his massive hands.

"Hey Lux, what's up- wait. Who are you?"

Ezreal gulped. "Hey, I'm your new roommate. My name is Ezreal. I see you were expecting someone different."

The big teenager waved a hand, and glanced up from his book. "Oh, I thought you were my sister. You both have blond hair. I'm Garen, by the way."

Ezreal was relieved. Despite his massive size and dangerous looking weaponry, he seemed friendly. In fact, looking at Garen's honest face, he felt like he basically already had a friend.

"Nice to meet you, Garen. What's up with the massive sword?"

"I've got a match in like thirty minutes, I thought I would get my stuff out. What's up with the gauntlet?"

"Oh this? My best friend up until two minutes ago. Can't take it off, don't want to."

"Up until two minutes ago? Does this make me your new best friend?"

"You bet."

Garen laughed, a sound which made Ezreal feel better about taking such a risk.

"So, where did you say you came from?"

"Oh. Nowhere really. I lived on the streets up until today. Ivern himself came and picked me off the streets! It was the best thing that has ever happened to me!"

"Yea, I bet. He's pretty cool. We have gotten a lot of new students from all different places. The war isn't going so well, so the higher ups have decided to be less picky.

"Are you saying I'm some sort of budget choice?" Ezreal asked with mock outrage.

"Depends how well you use that gauntlet. Let me see what you can do."

Ezreal smiled, and then focused. He teleported onto his bed, and then shot a bolt of energy at Garen's armor. The armor sucked up the bolt, devouring the magic.

"Nice! Don't shoot my armor again though. Petricite is expensive."

"P-petricite! Your armor is made out of Petricite? Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Petricite was one of the most durable materials known to humanity, and was so expensive you could go your entire life and only save up enough for a tiny dagger made of the stuff. Calling it expensive was a massive understatement.

"I am Garen Crownguard."

_Holy shit, I'm rooming with a royal!_

"I had no idea. Sorry for touching your armor, sir."

"Hey, no need to do that. We are friends, theres no reason to be so formal. Call me Garen, please. Most of the people here are famous, rich and powerful. If you are going to attend, you need to act like you are too. You seem talented. If you do really well, you will be catapulted to the top right away, regardless of birth."

Ezreal took a breath, and then smiled brightly. "Alright."

He walked over to his bed, and looked at the pile of clothing on it. "What's this? Ooo, it's soft."

"That's your first year uniform. Hmm. Appears that you will be in the Battle Club, just like me. Speaking of that, you probably haven't been put on the ladder yet, so you don't have a match yet. Do you want to watch mine? I'll show you around on the way."

"Sure, why not. Probably a good chance to meet new people." Ezreal shrugged on his uniform, pulling it over his gauntlet. It sparked a little in protest.

Garen swung his legs out of bed and onto the floor, creating a dull thud, and stood up. Ezreal realized his new friend was almost 7 feet tall, and likely close to 300 pounds of pure muscle.

"Damn, you sure are big."

"Runs in the male side of the family. My sister is quite petite."

"That would be Lux?"

"Yea." Garen grunted while putting his armor on.

"Could I get to meet her?"

"Maybe. Once I know your a good person I'll introduce you." He lifted his massive sword with one hand, and leaned it on his shoulder, handling the massive blade with apparent ease. "Lets go to the arena."

The arena was a large building in the center of the campus. It was a square building, and had what appeared to be offices on the outside. Garen led them inside, and through a twisting maze. Years of living on the streets had not prepared Ezreal for anything like this, and he resisted the urge to turn back only with difficulty. Eventually they came to a part of the building which was hollowed out. Rows and rows of seats covered the walls, and it even looked like there were some on the roof. The stadium floor was divided into a bunch of fenced off areas about 30 feet wide and 30 feet long. Inside them, many students faced off under the watchful eyes of judges.

"The roof folds outward to make more seats when there is a big match and a lot of people are watching."

"Is yours going to be big?"

"Not really, haha. I just need to destroy this one kid whose much less strong than me. He has somehow beaten all of his other opponents, but I've seen him fight. I don't think it will be a challenge."

"Nice. When do you think I will start having matchs?"

"Why, are you ready to kick some ass?" Garen asked, chuckling.

"Nervous to get MY ass kicked."

"Either way, I don't really know. I guess when the staff decides you are ready."

"Alright then. Hey, is that your opponent?"

Across the stadium a boy around Ezreal's age, holding an axe in his hand sauntered in, with a few friends nearby.

"You guessed it, that's him. He thinks he's the next Darius with that axe. Super egotistical. Thinks he beat all of his opponents with skill, but it was really luck."

"Have you ever seen Darius?"

"Yea, he comes and talks with Swain a lot, actually."

Ezreal was burning to ask questions about Swain, but Garen held up a finger. The match in the ring Garens match would be in had just ended, leaving a spear wielding boy in golden armor victorious.

The boy barely appeared winded though his opponent was knocked out on the floor. As they watched, several beams of green light struck both the boy and his unconscious opponent until they both appeared to be in perfect health.

"What are those?"

"Redemption beams, made by Kayle and Ornn. Cool, right?"

"Yeah, very. They seem handy. Hey the winner is coming over. Do you know him?"

"Yeah, he's a friend." Garen raised his voice. "Hey J4! Nice match!"

"Yeah, thanks man. No challenge though!"

Garen chuckled as the boy walked over to the locker rooms for a shower.

"J4 as in Prince Jarvan the Fourth?"

"Yeah, that's him. Cool dude."

"Holy shit man, everyone here is so famous. I'm like an orphan off the street and he is next in line to inherit Demacia!"

"Hey, don't stress about it. The only thing that matters here is how well you do. No one is going to be stuck up about who they really are. Well, maybe a few will be."

Ezreal thought he heard Garen mutter something about 'Pantheon,' but he couldn't be certain.

As soon as Jarvan's opponent left the ring, Garen stepped forward. He planted his sword in the ground, and adjusted his armor. Across from him his opponent stepped forward, swinging his axe lazily.


End file.
